Another time, another place, another face, still me

Today I was walking up Hunter St and I saw an apartment for rent sign in the window. I guess my eye is sort of trained to notice them lately because of the whole moving thing last month. The sign was for a bachelor apartment on the first floor of a house. For some reason every time I see a sign for a bachelor apartment I immediately begin to fantasize about living a secret life. I would still have this life, but in my spare time I would have a second life where I work at another part-time job, where I have a different name and different friends and I would keep a little bachelor apartment that was sparsely but tastefully furnished. The apartment is key; although I would probably never sleep there, but I could have people over for coffee and use the emptiness to produce better art and writing. Bachelor apartments down here are usually between $400 and $450 so it’s entirely doable. It’s that whole idea of having your own secret space that no one knows about. I completely understand why people used to build secret rooms in their houses. It’s weird how I’ve obviously thought about it to an extensive degree. It’s not that I’m unhappy with the life that I’m living right now, it’s just that I want to see if I could get away with it. I want to find out if I could put this over on everyone. There have been so many times that I’ve said to myself “I wish I could just start over…”

Then I see a sign that tells me how for $400 a month, I could.